The Order of Lilith
by Stella
Summary: The oath is no longer yours to keep, Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing. Your organization now answers to me.
1. Default Chapter

AN: This is my first real attempt at Hellsing fanfiction.  I've always wondered how it was that Alucard (or Dracula) became a vampire, and was very taken with the character Helena's comment in Episode 11 of the series, when she tells Seras to "Find the Eve," in regards to the artificial vampires.  I know that I've taken some liberties here, but I hope that you'll all bear with me.  I had a lot of fun doing research on the real Dracula and on vampire myths and legends for this story, which takes place after the series ends (though I do hope to tie in some points from the manga here as well).  The fic is mostly a general continuation, though there will be some AxI moments later in the story.

Oh, and of course, disclaimers apply.  I don't own Hellsing or the characters.  Heaven help us if I ever get a vampire of my very own. Thanks so much for reading!  

The Order of Lilith

By Stella

Prologue - _Hungary__, 1476_

_His soldiers raised the spears one after another, like a haunted forest of writhing metal and flesh that twisted up into the sky.  Screams of war cut into the cold winds that blasted over the Hungarian plain; the wails of the dying were a phantom chorus on the field.   But he was distracted by nothing.  All he could see, feel and taste was the battle.  _

_The emblem of the red dragon on his armor blazed against the storm.  Snow began to fall as he mowed down another enemy garrison.  The echo of steel on steel resonated in his ears, and when he finally turned around and threw down his sword, nothing moved in the path he had left behind.  Shredded bodies and cloven weapons were already sinking into the winter dust.  _

_He wiped the dampness from his face and tossed his helmet aside, looking up when he caught the glint of his general's armor moving towards him over the ruin.  The commanding officer removed his helm and sank to one knee. _

_"My Prince, I do not know what kind of men these were.  We cut through them like water, but they seemed more like ghosts than soldiers.  It's as if they are… already dead."_

_"They are invaders in our land," the ruler sneered.  "I want these vermin raised high so that all will know that the true Prince of __Wallachia__ defends his throne."  His lips twisted into a malicious grin.  "Let our enemies come.  Only death awaits them."_

_The general rose to his feet and bowed lowly, but did not move away from his lord.  Wide, battle-weary eyes shifted focus to the circle of spikes growing around the field.  He seemed entranced by the sight, his face paling as he remained frozen in place.  _

_The prince followed the man's gaze, then glared at his subordinate.  "What is it, general?  Speak now or you'll join them."_

_The soldier's entire being quaked beneath his rattling armor.  He leveled a trembling finger at the carnage beyond his master.   "There is an unholy force at work here, my prince.  An unholy force…"_

_"Fool.  You try my patience.  I will skewer you myse—"_

_The general shook his head and kept his stricken eyes locked on the impaled bodies.  "No blood, my Lord Vlad.  The corpses--" he choked.  "They did not bleed.  You will see… there is not a drop of blood on the ground."_

_The prince turned and stared out at the newly dusted field.  His ears were met with low, animalistic moans from the creatures on the spikes.  The sounds flurried around him, mingling with the snow and pricking at his skin with each icy gust.  Something about them seemed inhuman, beyond death.  Even from the distance, he could see that the white blanket at the base of the spears remained pristine and unblemished by the usual gore that accompanied his chosen method of execution.   The prince drew in a sharp breath and looked up to the darkening sky.  Night would be upon them soon.  _

_The figures on the spears continued to twist and groan.  Minutes wore on like hours, and the voices rose to a howling frenzy, then plunged into sudden silence.  Out of the unexpected stillness, a strange whisper rushed into his mind.  It called for him.  His head snapped around, surveying the dusky landscape for its source, but he found nothing.  A shiver wracked the prince's body.  He knew it wasn't from the cold._

 "Alucard."

The vampire twitched and slowly opened his eyes.  For a moment, he swore that he could still smell the air of that long ago battle and feel the weight of armor heavy against his chest.  His fingers flexed as if remembering the cold that bit at them, and when he moved, he half-expected to feel the sore muscles that came after hours of fighting.  He shook his head and pulled himself completely into consciousness, focusing on the familiar stone of the Hellsing manor's sublevels.

 _A _dream?___  How many centuries has it been since I've dreamed of that day.  Why now?  Why…_

"Alucard."

She was calling for him, her voice hinging on the edge of impatience.  He rose from his chair and stepped forward into the darkness, seconds later dissolving through the wall and into her office.  Expectant blue eyes flicked up at him from behind her glasses; the features around them were tense, but the thin line of her lips quickly lapsed open and she tilted her blond head when he approached.  The dream was still lingering in his mind.  Perhaps there was a hint of disturbance in his expression, or in the air around him or… perhaps it was simply the fact that he had made her wait.  "Is something wrong, Alucard?"

"Nothing worth troubling you, Master."

"I see."  Integra slid a folder across her desk as he drifted nearer.  The faint, sweet scent of cigars and tea spices clung to her hair and clothes.  Warmth from her human body reached out to meet him, whether she willed it to or not.  Alucard almost smiled.  This was here and now.  Remnants of the dream quickly dissipated and he turned his attention to papers in front of him.  It had been too long since he was sent out and he ached for a fight.

  Her fingers lightly traced the edge of the file before flipping it open.  Something about her seemed fragile, almost weaker in the recent weeks.  Her body was still recovering, he knew, and she refused to rest until the organization was rebuilt.  His master's mind, as always, was immersed in business as usual. 

"These photos were taken by an MI-5 unit in Cardiff six weeks ago, shortly after…"  He heard her swallow hard and shift in her chair.  She still couldn't bring herself to say it.   

_"When they locked you away.__  When you almost drank my blood." _

Integra held her breath while her eyes squeezed tightly shut.  Alucard could sense the swell of rage until it almost oozed through her skin, but only for an instant.  His master quickly sucked in a gulp of air and regained her composure.   

"The attacks continued while we were… indisposed.  The Vatican took it upon themselves to step in and kill whatever they could find, though as usual, they failed to concern themselves with the heart of the problem." 

She dealt out the photographs like a deck of morbid playing cards.  They were images he'd seen a thousand times, more or less.  Blood splattered on the walls of otherwise normal-looking homes, dried to a dark brown over family pictures and tacky floral wallpaper.  It stained table linens and cheerfully patterned curtains.  Ghoulish husks of drained bodies littered the ruined carpets, though in this instance, they were pinned to the floor by Father Anderson's blessed blades.

"There were only ghouls - no sign of the vampires that created them.  We're sure there is a group from the number of footprints found outside on the grounds.  However, the targeted families were all wealthy Catholics, and the homes were completely ransacked, almost as if the creatures responsible were looking for something."

"Just common little punks with a taste for rich blood," the vampire shrugged.  "Hardly worth my time.  Except that the damn priest was there."

Integra smirked up at him as she produced another folder, but her expression quickly faded into a frown.  "Yes, and now he's in London.  Last night another family was attacked here in the city.  The Vatican may think this matter belongs to them because of the victims' religious affiliations, but those people were still citizens of Britain.  And now that Her Majesty has restored Hellsing, there is no reason for the Iscariot Organization to be involved, even if we have no troops ready for field duty as of yet."

Alucard gave her his best fang-baring grin.  "I think I can take care of things.  And if I happen to run into any of the Iscariots, I'll be sure to ask them, very nicely, to leave."  He reached for his Jackal and checked to be sure the clip was fully loaded.  After a satisfying "click" resounded through the room, he replaced it in his jacket.

"Your orders, Master?"

Integra gained her feet and a neatly typed page was pushed towards him.

"Destroy this group of creatures completely.  Walter has compiled a list of the wealthiest Catholic families in the city.  He feels that based on prominence and proximity, these two locations would be the next likely targets.  Station Miss Victoria at the smaller home, which is the St. James residence.  Instruct her not to engage Anderson on her own."

He nodded and sank into the floor, forgoing a jibe about Sir Hellsing's newly protective nature.  As he strolled through the cold stone hallways, intent on rousing the police girl, an eerie, but somehow familiar uneasiness overtook his senses.  Images of the dream flashed back into his mind accompanied by a soft whisper.  He knew that voice.  And it called him by a name that had ceased to be his a very long time ago.

Alucard whirled around and drew his gun, but there was no one to be seen in the passageway.  Could he be imagining things?  The vampire gripped the paper in his other hand and stared at the addresses.  He could not shake the notion that tonight's mission would be more than a simple search and destroy.__


	2. Memories of the Fallen

AN:  It took a bit longer than I had hoped, but Chapter 1 is finally here.  It seems that this particular installment should be more appropriately labeled 'flash-back-o-rama,' (woo-hoo!  O_O) but I think it's important to find out what happened between Integra and Alucard while she was locked in the Tower of London, as well as more of Alucard's memories from the past.  After this, I think I'll finally be able to concentrate more on that… thing, what is it???… Oh!  The plot!

Thanks to everyone for the replies and suggestions!  *hugs*  I appreciate your comments so much, and I'm new to writing these characters and your input is very helpful.  Oh yes, boring author's notes are almost over, just one last thing.  I don't own Hellsing or its characters.  Though I would like my own vampire… Hmmm… *rummages through mail-order catalogues*  I wonder how much shipping is with the coffin?

Thanks so much for reading!

The Order of Lilith

By Stella

Chapter 1 – Memories of the Fallen

_The Night of the Last __Battle__ – __Hungary__, 1476_

_The shouts of his own men tore him from sleep, their deep baritones rising to feverish pitches of terror over the distance.  The prince threw back his coverings and parted the material of the tent in order to peer out onto the field beyond.  At first, he noticed nothing unusual. The storm had passed; the moon rode high across the winter sky.   Silhouettes of his impaled enemies were cut out against it, but there were no signs of an attacking army as far as he could see.  Yet the cries continued._

_  A cloud wisped over the moon's glowing face, sending the earth into deeper shades of night.  When the darkness passed moments later, the prince suddenly understood the cause of the unrest.  He looked out once again onto the illuminated field.   The ring of bodies had disappeared. _

_Most fell quickly, though a few remained caught in the wrenching motions needed to slide down the lengths of steel and pull the spears from their own bodies.  The corpses began to move over the plain, heralding their progress with roars that seemed to rise from the very pits of hell.  _

_The prince's breath misted in the winter air as he charged into the night, pushing through a trembling front line of soldiers that had scrambled into a defensive around the camp.  Even then he could not believe what he saw.  A dream, it must be.  'Or a nightmare,' he told himself.  'Creatures such as these only exist in nightmares.'_

_His men quaked and cried out from their ranks.  He heard the clatter of armor and the sound of swords and spears falling to the ground.  He wanted to turn, to scream at them to pick up their weapons, to stand and fight, but the prince could not look away.  The leader of the grotesque army had searched him out and now held his gaze in an iron grip that would not release._

_She was both beautiful and hideous at once, Aphrodite and Medusa in one form.  White skin shone like polished marble, seemingly untouched by the death and dirt that she glided over while guiding the horde of mutilated, groaning remnants of soldiers that stumbled and crawled behind her.   The curves of her body were barely hidden beneath sheer robes that flowed and rippled in an invisible breeze.  Long tendrils of raven hair were wound around her head – they seemed almost alive, like snakes that writhed and moved of their own volition.  Her eyes glowed red through the haze of the __midnight__ battlefield.  _

_The mysterious figure stretched out an alabaster arm towards the prince.  Lips the color of red death parted in a sinister half-smile and the stranger opened her mouth as if to speak, but emitted only a low whisper of icy breath that wrapped around him and froze him where he stood._

_'Dracul… '                                                                      _

_She drew closer and the weapon he held slipped from his grasp.  "What demon are you?" He labored to form the words, but it was all he could do just to breathe.   His limbs were heavy and cold, his feet anchored to the ground. _

_A strange language answered him, unintelligible, yet conveying her message with haunting clarity.  "I am death and not death, cursed by God.  You know what I am.  Now ask yourself, prince, what demon will you become?"_

_Like a flash of lightening she stood before him, eyes blazing akin to embers that refused to die.  His traitorous arms refused to comply when every racing thought in his brain urged them to reach out and kill her with his own bare hands._

_She merely laughed at his struggle, then picked up the gilded sword at his side and ran him through._

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

In the shadow of the Hellsing manor Alucard tilted his head back to watch the moon emerge from a grey mask of clouds.   Something about the sway of the heavens, the movement of light and dark, made him think of that night.  Strange how he could still see it vividly after so many centuries.  There were things, many things, about his human life and the time since that faded into the shrouded mist immortality can cast over the mind.  But not that last battle.  And not her.  

The sound of clanking metal and the soft rustling of fabric sounded at his side.   He didn't have to look to know that she wasn't ready yet.

"Almost there, Master.  Sorry.  Walter was just getting these set out for me when you arrived."

Seras fastened the ammunition box for her cannon and finally strapped the case to her back.  She hefted the giant gun until it rested on her shoulder, letting gloved fingers flex around the barrel as though she were greeting an old friend.  "I think that's everything.  Sir Integra did say there was a group of these FREAKS, right?  And that there's the possibility of…"  

She trailed off.  Alucard's apprentice mimicked his stance and looked to the sky.  She shifted from one foot to another, and then set to checking her supply of bullets once again.  As Seras restlessly readjusted her equipment, he could sense something of a distraction tugging at the younger vampire's mind

Alucard pushed his glasses over the bridge of his nose.  "Don't be concerned about the priest, police girl."  

Her eyes flicked over to him, as though she were still amazed by his ability to see into her thoughts.  She sighed softly and returned her gaze to the ground.  Alucard continued to watch the celestial dance above.  

"There are far more terrifying things roaming the night than that sad Vatican lab rat."  He turned and smiled widely, stretching his arms out to embrace the evening air.  "It would be a real shame to keep them waiting."

 "Master?"

"What is it, police-girl?"

The young vampire's neck was craned in the direction of house, toward the lighted windows of Integra's office.  The dark outline of the Hellsing Organization's leader was visible to their vampire eyes, hunched over her desk, forehead resting on her hands.

"I… I'm concerned for Sir Integra.  She still seems unwell, even though—"

The shadow gained its feet and moved away from the desk.  The lights in the room dimmed a few moments later.  Alucard smiled.

"She is a Hellsing.  Your concerns are unfounded.  Integra will be defeated only if she admits weakness, and that she never will.  One way or another, she will continue to fight."

A slight grin graced the features of the officer when she looked up at her master.  "Sometimes I think that you and Sir Integra are very much alike, despite… obvious differences."

Alucard nodded.  "Perhaps we are, police girl.  Perhaps we are.  Now come on," he smirked, vanishing into the London fog.  "The night has only just begun."

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

She slid under the sheets; they were cool against her bare feet, soft against her calloused hands.  Integra's dizzy head sank back into the oversized pillow, and she moved against the confines of the suit still buttoned around her body.  Just a few minutes, she told herself.  All she needed was a few minutes.  It had been over twenty-four hours since last she slept, and after giving her servant orders for the evening, she knew all the cups of tea in the world couldn't keep her awake any longer.  

Moonlight trickled in from windows across the room, making the darkness more comfortable.  When she was a child, she had always been grateful for a cloudless night and the silvery rays that would filter in through the ancient glass.  Integra had never cared for the harsh pitch-black shadows that often clung to the corners of the Hellsing manor, and all the old buildings she'd grown accustomed to as a member of the nobility: Buckingham Palace, the National Gallery.  The Tower of London.  

She cursed herself silently for allowing that place and the time she spent there to creep into her thoughts.  She knew what would follow.  Every time she closed her eyes, the scene would play out like a movie, over and over again.  In each instance, she remembered something else – words Alucard had uttered, some detail of the room.  But nothing, nothing in all these remembrances could douse the small flame of regret that burned inside of her.  And she hated herself for it.

_"Drink," his mind told hers.  It was a constant buzzing in the back of her brain, relentless and unceasing.  She'd lost count of the days she had been imprisoned, only realizing another night had come when Alucard appeared, seeming none the worse for wear after their ordeal with the mysterious foreign vampire.  But the same could not be said of her.  Every inch of her being ached, as if her body was protesting at simply remaining alive.  The wounds on her neck still felt open and angry.  They reminded her every waking moment of that awful night.  And as if to torment her further, those very same gashes along her throat burned like red hot brands every time her servant was near.  On that last night in the Tower, the hurt had been nearly unbearable._

_"Alucard."__  She gave a slight nod upon his approach.  Pain shot through her shoulders and she winced in spite of herself.  The cigar between her fingers seemed to weigh a thousand pounds as she lifted it to her mouth._

_"It will please you to know that Walter is recovering quickly."_

_  She managed a smile.  "Thank God."_

_The vampire leaned against the aged stones and crossed his arms.  Crimson lenses hid his eyes, but Integra knew only too well that they were locked on her.  _

_"The old 'Angel of Death' is hard to kill even now."_

_"So you're impressed then?"_

_He chuckled lightly.  "Very."_

_Her focus shifted to the heavy door across the room. Thick oak slats reinforced with iron strips, and another few inches of solid metal on the outside – how many prisoners had it held in over the long years?  _

_"Have they brought him here yet?" she asked.  "Or taken him to--"_

_Alucard__ shrugged.  "Not yet.  But I'm sure it's only a matter of time."_

_'I'm sorry, Walter.'  Her eyes found the floor and the pain began to swell once again.    She repressed a shudder when the invisible knives stabbed at her tortured flesh._

_ Her servant moved away from the wall.  "You know as well as I do that he would not tolerate those words."_

_Integra lifted her head._

_"You were strong, my Master.  Even now, I can sense that strength and know it will transcend this miserable existence.  But your body is in ruin and you've lost everything that defined you as a human - your honor, your freedom. You no longer have a duty to __England__."_

_"My family will always have a duty."  She could hear the strain her own voice even as she attempted to straighten her posture.  "We are bound to serve the Queen, the Church and-"_

_"No."  The word echoed out loudly through the stone chamber.  He stopped his progress and stared at her from the center of the room.  "You have been betrayed and abandoned.  I am all you have left… Integra."_

_She shot up from her place on the bed, steadying herself on the nearest wall.  "As long as I bear the name of Hellsing I will not give up.  Until I am dead and buried, I will never stop fighting.   Nothing has changed. Alucard."_

_He moved forward and before she could blink, his face was leveled with hers.  Thin ashen lips curled back to reveal the fangs behind them.  "Look around you, my Master.  Everything has changed."_

The head of Hellsing took a deep breath and opened her stinging eyes, only to close them again.  Mechanically, her fingers lifted the glasses away from her face and they fell back on the quilt.  She pressed the cool metal frames to her palm and tried to let consciousness fade.  _Sleep.  Just a few minutes.  Sleep.   Certainly the strongest tea could not have kept her awake – but the churning thoughts in her head were far more potent.    The memory had started, and there would be no rest._

_Deep in the belly of the Tower, Alucard stood before his master and asked for her orders.  He knew them, she thought, certainly he did.  _

_Her stomach turned when she imagined the blood pouring into her mouth – at the idea of taste, the smell and most of all, what it would make her.  She touched the cross at her throat and asked God's forgiveness; she asked for her father's understanding.  This was how she chose to continue to fight.  And fight she would._

_Alucard__ grinned and sidled up to the nearby table.  Integra looked away, but she knew he would not let her escape this.  Once an order is given, it must be carried out.  Walter's words came back to her.  "Even if the cost is our own lives."_

_The echo of shattering glass funneled straight to her brain.  He loomed near the bed, smiling over her with eyes glowing behind his glasses.  She stared up at him and bit into the cigar while bound hands came to rest in her lap.  The cell's dim lamplight glinted off his fangs, and the vampire took a step closer.  "The decision is yours."_

_She let out a bitter laugh.  So it had finally come to this._

_He grabbed a handful of her blond hair and slid a gloved finger against her heated cheek, drawing her body in closer to his.  She watched the blood drop from her servant's hand and form a modest pool on the floor._

_"Now is the time, my Master." _

_"I will continue to fight," she told herself when the wounds on her neck caught fire again.  The thoughts became murmurs that tumbled from her lips.  They pulsed in time with the rhythm of her heartbeat.  Alucard hovered nearer, offering the bleeding hand until she took it in her own.  _

_"I will continue to fight.  I will—"  _

_"Yes, that strength!"__ The pitch and fervor of his deep voice rose with every word.  It rang in dark triumph through the cell. "You will do what no Hellsing before you was able to."_

_  No Hellsing before… Images of her father flashed in rapid succession.  Integra reeled backwards, but Alucard's arms held her firmly.   The scent of the blood filled her nostrils and her eyes flew open.  She clamped her mouth shut and turned away._

_"Your hesitation is useless.  Don't hide your true will.  Master!"_

_"Alucard…"___

_He gnashed his teeth and tightened his grip on her body.  "They're coming.  You must, Master!  Now!"_

_The sound of old clanking metal and the rattle of heavy iron keys shattered the air around the lone figures in the room.  A rush of wind rustled her hair and Alucard disappeared into the shadows.  Integra spun around in time to see the faithful pair of royal messengers pass over her prison threshold.  They seemed not to notice her breathlessness, or her rumpled suit, or the fact that her hands had been freed.  They simply nodded and began to speak._

_ "Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing.  We bring word from Her Majesty.  The Queen regrets not delivering this news to you herself, but… Your freedom has been granted.  You may return to your home and resume your duties with the Hellsing Organization.  A car awaits when you are ready."  They bowed and replaced their bowler hats, exiting as abruptly as they'd arrived.  This time, however, the sturdy door remained open._

_"So you'll trust them again?"_

_"I have a sacred duty," she replied to his bodiless voice.  "Perhaps this is God's way of telling me how I must… or must not go about it."  The torn flesh of her neck continued to radiate discomfort in sharp waves.  Integra grit her teeth and started towards the door._

_"You gave me order," he called out._

_ "And it will hold for now, as I give you another.  Let us not speak of this again."_

_The airy laughter followed her.  "If you say so, my Master.  Though I hardly see how we'll be able to avoid the subject.  You know as well as I do – this isn't over."_

Integra pulled herself upright and set her feet on the cold tile floor.  The light from the night sky created a quiet path to the window which she followed with lithe, careful steps.  The view of the grounds and the city beyond seemed calm, almost desolate.  She replaced the round silver frames on her face and stared out at the serene mist  gently rolling over the banks of the Thames.  The dark landscape looked so peaceful.  __

But in all the years she had run Hellsing, if she had learned one thing, it was not to be fooled by the semblance of tranquility.  Alucard and Seras were still out on the night's mission.  There had been no word from them yet, not that she'd expected any this soon.  But she knew… Somewhere out in the night, they were waiting in the darkness for evil to descend upon the city.  This is why the Hellsing organization must endure, why she must fight.  Out beyond the stone walls of her family home or any prison that could hold her, there was one inevitable truth: Monsters were on their way to spill innocent blood.


	3. The Relic

AN: Hello again! Just a couple of things… 

I'd hoped to get this out sooner, but the chapter kinda got away from me and ended up a little bit on the lengthy side O.o I got carried away with Alucard and Father Anderson fighting, what can I say?

First I want to apologize for the heinous typos in my first posting of the previous chapter. I was seriously half asleep when I edited it – I hope all the mistakes are fixed now. And thank you again for your comments! I'm hoping to get better with the characters as I go on, your encouraging words and suggestions are very appreciated as I'm still getting comfortable with writing Hellsing. I also wanted to say a few things about the research: There are sooo many contradicting accounts of Vlad Dracula (especially of his death). I just chose the one that fit my story idea best, though I love to read your different opinions. I don't claim to be any kind of authority on the subject, I just think this is all extremely fun and interesting. That and this is fiction, nothing I would ever claim is sanctioned by the creators or anything like that. It's just my take on things, an idea, a story that I hope you'll all enjoy.

The Order of Lilith

By Stella

 Chapter 2 – The Relic

"I'm looking forward to our weekend, pookie."

"As am I, lovey."

The man Alucard assumed to be Harrington was hunkered down in a leather armchair behind his vast mahogany desk, quietly cooing into the receiver.  He was a short, pug-faced figure, tapping out some classical tune absentmindedly on his ink blotter with an expensive-looking fountain pen.  The lamp nearby illuminated his ruddy cheeks, which grew to apple size when he grinned.  The teeth that revealed themselves seemed too small to accommodate the size of his head.

"Yes, I've missed you, too, lovey.  I'll send the car round after my meeting.  Bring that little black dress I like."   A young woman giggled on the other end of the line.  Alucard knew already, she wasn't his wife.

The vampire shook his head and chuckled to himself.  Certainly he was having more fun than the police girl, who was stationed at the house just down the road.  They'd been out here for hours and he'd caught neither sight nor scent of Anderson or a roaming group of FREAKS.

"Pity.  And I was looking forward to a little bit of fun."

Alucard continued listening to Harrington's whispered phone conversation while taking in the new surroundings.  Waiting around outside had gotten boring, so the Hellsing agent silently passed through the neatly kept brick walls of the Harringtons' country estate, only to find himself in the library.  The smell of old leather and decaying pages hung heavily around the ornate chandelier and all things caught in its glow.  The walls he stood by were richly colored, wallpapered in deep shades of green, gold and burgundy.  Dizzying patterns on a delicately woven Persian rug stretched over the marble floors until they stopped at carved panels that made up a set of doors on the far side.  

Alucard, materializing into little more than a shadow in a remote corner of the room, let his eyes drift over the ceiling-high shelves of books and a massive wooden case filled with different rosaries, urns and prayer cards.  They sat upon velvet cushions, displayed amongst the other precious items safely nestled under a 15th century oil painting of the Madonna; all of them antiques, heirlooms, artifacts – religious oddities that the wealthy master of the house had collected over the years.  The dark figure let out a silent huff.  _Humans and their petty attachment to objects, sacred or otherwise.  Their need for comfort, for justification…_

"But pookie, what are you going to tell HER?"

Harrington fingered an ornate cross around his neck as he spoke. 

_To maintain the semblance of righteousness…_

"She's off on holiday with the children anyway.  I told her I had some business in Milan, which isn't completely untrue.  You'll be my business.  But I have to take care of this first, lovey."  

The woman laughed again.  Her syrupy, pouty voice was almost too much to take.

"Who are you meeting this late at night?"

 "A collector."  The balding little man ran his sausage-like fingers over an awkwardly shaped package in front of him.  His greedy expression took a turn when the female voice squealed on the other end of the line.

"Oooh?"

"He's interested in one of my newly acquired pieces and insisted on meeting me tonight.  Wouldn't take no for an answer.  Strange fellow, sounded foreign."

 Harrington's watery eyes flew up at the door, as if he were expecting the guest at any moment.  He turned his attention back to the object on the desk and smiled.   

"He seemed exceedingly anxious.  Said quite a few people have been _dying to lay their hands on it.  I'm just glad I snatched it up from that stupid little dealer in Cardiff last month who had no idea what it was worth."_

Another shrill outburst sounded through the connection.  "Does this mean I'll get a special present?  I saw this diamond bracelet at—"

Harrington pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his hairless head.  "Look, lovey, I really have to go.   That bloke will be here any second.  I'll see you later tonight."

A sharp sensation jabbed at Alucard's senses when Harrington hung up the receiver.  The vampire cast a glance out of the moonlit windows behind the room's other occupant.  The color of night was thick like dark velvet, blanketing the rolling hills outside in plush shades of black and blue.  The house where Seras waited was little more than a deeper impression; Alucard's stare strayed to the low circle of the full moon.  A dark figure moved against it, seeming large even in the distance. It clutched a shaft of gleaming metal in each of its lanky arms and moved in a steady progression towards the St. James estate.  

"So you didn't disappoint me after all," he muttered in a voice that no human ear could pick up.  The hunger for battle rumbled through his entire being.  He ran a tongue over his fangs and flexed his gloved hands.  "Target is confirmed."

Harrington was unaware of his company and was humming to himself, distracted by his latest treasure, no doubt.  He was still staring at the paper-wrapped lump in his palm.  He ran a covetous hand over the parcel, then slid a finger under the covering and pulled it back, revealing another layer, this time of soft cloth.  Alucard turned his eyes back to the night.  Behind Harrington, the sword-toting shadow on the road was swallowed by the darkness.  "Releasing control on restriction system to level three."

The vampire glided nearer, intent on stealing a closer look at the object held by the human before he was forced to depart.   Harrington was about to loosen the last of the woven fabric when Alucard heard the scream he'd been expecting finally echo through his mind.  

"Master!"

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

"They haven't returned yet, Sir Integra."  Walter took her empty cup and replaced it with a full one.  The soft rattling of china and the warm scent of tea were a welcome distraction from the pages of gruesome photos and irritatingly inconclusive reports from the authorities in Cardiff and London.

Walter hovered over her chair, arranging and rearranging the cups and saucers in a slow, deliberate fashion.  Integra could feel his eyes stealing glances at the files over her shoulder.  When she turned to scowl up at him, he had finished collecting the remainder of the tea service and skirted the side of her desk.  The tray was perched on one of his hands and he stood directly in front of her, feet together and spine straight, as if at attention. 

 She reached for a cigar.  "What is it, Walter?"

"If I may, mum, I'd like to suggest that we go above and beyond our regular search and destroy mission in this particular case."

Integra raised an eyebrow and tilted her head up so that she could look straight at him.  Walter seemed momentarily taken aback by the simple gesture; the monocle slipped from his face and the tea tray rocked slightly atop his palm.  The leader of Hellsing kept one eye fixed on him while she rummaged through a desk drawer and retrieved her lighter.  Puffs of sweet-smelling smoke began to meander towards the ceiling while she narrowed her eyes at the steward.

"Go on."

Walter appeared to relax slightly.  He drew in a deep breath and set the tray down, then returned to a less rigid stance.  "It's just that… I don't get the impression that the police are up to information retrieval at any rate.  I know that we've done a small amount in the past, but perhaps if we conducted our own full investigation, we would be able to head off this series of events before it becomes something catastrophic.  Besides, it's very difficult to say whether or not MI-5 and the S.A.S. can truly be trusted given...  what took place not long ago.  "

She pressed her lips together and readied herself for the pain that would undoubtedly spring up and gnaw at the scars on her neck from the mere allusion to it all.  She closed her eyes and saw Alucard's face leaning so close to hers.

_Look around you, Master.  Everything has changed._

Despite her ardent denials to the contrary, more to herself than to her undead servant, she felt the truth of that statement.  It throbbed in every resistant beat of her heart and attacked at the times when her mind was not preoccupied by work.  She could pick out the small instances in which it did not apply: she was still a Hellsing; Walter would be at her side until he was dead and buried and Alucard… Alucard was still her servant.  But what he had said went far beyond that.  Her very trust in all the things she held to had been shaken.  Faith, honor and duty and been crushed by lies, deceit and betrayal.

_If things must change, better to have the power to control those changes_.

Her eyelids parted slowly, revealing Walter still standing in front of her with hands clasped behind his back and shadows filling the deep lines around his eyes.

"Very well, Walter.  I trust you'll see to it personally."

The steward gave a bit of a start, then a brisk nod.  "Of course, Sir Integra."

He moved in for the tray and she bent her head, trying to study the information on the last page of a police report.  She read and reread the same line, comprehending none of it.

 "Good night then," Walter called out over the sound of a closing door.  "Do try to get some rest."  Integra looked up, but the doors had already fallen shut behind him.  She shook her head and pushed the other thoughts from consciousness.  Her fingers found the cigar again and then swiftly flipped back to the beginning of the file.  Images of slain ghouls with blades pinning their heads to the ground stared up at her with one word written on the bottom of the photo – Iscariot.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

Pages of scripture were tacked to every tree around the clearing.  Alucard crept in with the low mist and found her standing face to face with their visitor, cannon trained on the tall priest's spiky head.  The younger vampire stood above the intruder, having entrenched herself atop one of the sloping hills on the St. James estate.  Seras's features were hard-set in a scowl.  

Alucard smirked.  He watched her finger twitch against the trigger as a familiar snide voice sliced through the dark.

"I thought I was tracking a band of the chipped demons here.  But you'll do."  His lips curled into a snarl and his whole body flinched as if ready to attack.  Seras stood her ground.

"You don't belong here.  You have no authority in this country."

"Don't I?  I have the sacred authority to rid the world of undead filth.  That's all I need." The priest drawled, holding a pair of blades in a cross formation.  "Your Sir Hellsing is a heretic and a weakling, incapable of protecting the people of this land or controlling the monsters she keeps.  I should have known it's you who are responsible for these killings.  So, Hellsing's taken to exterminating the true followers of God with the creatures who defile his name with their very existence?"

Seras sputtered.  Her grip on the gun was so tense that Alucard could see her arms shaking.  "You think we've been killing those Catholic families?  We were sent here tonight to protect them!"

A light breeze tossed the edges of Anderson's ankle-length coat, revealing long legs that were bent at the knee and ready to propel him for a strike.  "Lies.  That's all you demons are capable of.  And what have you been doing?  Selling off all those valuable holy relics that have been stolen?   Trying to fund your broken little organization? "

Alucard solidified his form and stepped forward from his place behind Seras.  He clutched the Casull tightly and extended his arm over the police girl's other shoulder.

"I think you've asked enough questions… Catholic."

He fired the gun when Anderson charged, shattering one of the swords in the priest's hands.  Alucard swept his free arm over Seras; as if in a dance, the pair whirled over the crest of the hill.  Another onslaught of silvery weapons narrowly missed the vampires.  Wind rushed over the grass again as blades came to rest in a nearby tree.

"Police girl. I'll take care of this.  Go and keep an eye on the other house.  They were expecting someone."

Seras nodded and broke into a run towards the Harrington residence.  Alucard floated to his feet and moved to face the uninvited guest.

"The relics," Alucard seethed, plucking a knife and scripture page from a nearby tree trunk.   "How dare you even suggest that my master needs anything that belongs to you.  Maybe you'll be a relic someday, too, Judas Priest."  A fresh clip of bullets clicked into place.  The Casull gleamed in his hand and he sauntered forward, red coat swirling with every step.  "They'll put your body in a museum vault and give away little bits of your bones for the pathetic masses to wear around their necks."

Alucard gracefully dodged another assault and grinned at the deepening creases on his opponent's forehead.   Anderson emitted a low growl before producing another set of knives.  Didn't the priest know he was only more fun when he was angry?

The two launched themselves at each other again.  Anderson swooped down from the hilltop, swords flying in his wake.  Alucard shot several of them out of the air and grazed the priest's arm in the process.  With his last bullet, he deflected another blade but turned at the last moment and felt something bite into the flesh just above his heart.  He came to a halt on the dewy grass and caught sight of his adversary.  Anderson was breathing heavily.  The eyes behind his glasses seemed to be frantically searching the night for Alucard.

 "Tired already, sad little Vatican plaything?"  The vampire pulled the sword from his shoulder and let it fall to the ground.  "Is that all you have for me after so long?  I'm sincerely disappointed."

"You damn monster," Anderson spat.  "Get on your knees and start praying."

Alucard smiled and slid the Jackal out from its resting place in his coat.  

"Why?  Will you grant me a miracle if I do?"  He fired at Anderson's head.  The priest ducked and twirled away, moving closer as Alucard took another shot.  

"Will you absolve me of my sins?"

The Jackal rang out again.                   

"Save my immortal soul?"

Alucard raised the gun in time to parry Anderson's attack.  The blade scraped against the firearm's metal casing and the priest's eyes burned like flickering green flames.  "You have no soul.  God's divine mercy isn't meant for the likes of you.  I'll send you to hell where you belong."

Alucard flipped the Casull in his other hand and struck the priest hard in the stomach with handle.  He tottered backwards and Hellsing's vampire aimed the gun at Anderson's heart.  "Just try it."

The roar of Seras's cannon exploded into the night.  From across the country road, the tall windows of the Harrington's library shattered and spewed glass in shining fragments onto the well-manicured lawn.

Alucard glanced back at the priest, who was already off and running for the structure.  "I hate to leave a fight unfinished," he shouted at Anderson's retreating back.  "I'll consider this an intermission."

The vampire replaced his gun and shifted his shape.  As a large black bat, he soared over the sloping hills and arrived amid the chaos in Harrington's library.

There were a dozen of them at least, all dressed in strange white robes and ransacking the room.  Books were strewn on the floor, statues smashed and portraits being ripped from the walls and torn from the frames.   Seras was holding the some of the group at bay, hastily reloading the cannon while Harrington cowered behind her under the overturned desk.  She had already reduced two FREAKS to mounds of ash on the floor and was aiming for the others that flanked her left.

"Stay back," she ground out.  "I won't let you murder another person."

"Just give us what we came for, girl," one of them hissed.  "Maybe then, we'll kill you quickly."

"Oh, I'll give you something."  In a flash of light, the artificial vampire was a smoking outline of dust.

"Looks like you have this under control, police girl."

"Master!"  She made a face at Alucard and reached for another round of ammunition.  More of the intruders were closing in.  "Took your time, didn't you?"

He brought the Jackal out and fired over his shoulder, not even bothering to look at the offensive creature he had just sent into oblivion.

"The priest and I were having such fun.  It was difficult to tear myself away."

Seras shook her head and took aim once again.  Harrington was on the floor, covering his head and muttering something that sounded like a 'Hail Mary' between choked sobs and promises to God to never cheat on his wife again.

"They just burst in and started tearing the place apart," Seras said.  "I didn't even hear them or see them coming."  Alucard turned around to take another series of shots.  He hit one of the targets, but a few had gotten wise and were making an effort to dodge his bullets.  They climbed over the walls on all fours, ripping down everything in their path.  

            "I managed to get this man to safety, but there was another one – he came in right before they did; I don't think he's dead, but I don't know wh– dammit!"  In her haste to reload, the younger vampire hadn't closed the chamber properly.  A white-clad woman came screeching at them, fangs barred.  Alucard noticed a strange mark on her forehead.  He aimed for it, squeezed the trigger and she was no more.  He'd had enough of this.

            "You little vermin aren't very good, are you?"  He shouted.  Several of them halted their destructive pursuits for a moment and turned their heads in his direction.  Low sounds bubbled up from their throats and their dull eyes followed his movements as if stalking easy prey. He strode to the center of the room, but as he went, the unmistakable scent of blood reached his nostrils.  Under one of the toppled bookcases, Alucard recognized Father Enrico Maxwell pinned and bleeding into Harrington's expensive rug.  Then he heard it again.  That irritating voice.

"Father Maxwell?"

Alucard whirled around and leered at the new arrival.  "Welcome back, priest.  Just give me a few minutes to get this little matter cleared up and we can pick up where we left off."  

"You-"Anderson let out a snort, but his eyes widened when he caught sight of his compatriot.

"Father Maxwell!"

"Don't touch me, Anderson," the other priest rasped.  "Get the relic – the relic!"

"It's ours!" one of the FREAKS grunted.  He was a broad-shouldered man with dark hair and eyebrows that knitted together as he sneered.  "Killing you now will be merciful.  When have fulfilled our duty, there will be no mercy left in this world.  Your presence here tonight was a surprise to us, but it means nothing.  What has been set in motion cannot be stopped."

Alucard rolled his eyes and pushed his glasses down in order to give the speaker a tired look.  "Why don't you stop talking and show me instead."

 The artificial vampire raised a hand and his lips slowly receded into a grin.  "All you had to do was ask."

The strange, dark-haired vampire's laughter rose while his group descended upon the priest and Alucard.  The others leapt from their perches and sprang at the two figures in the room's center.   They came from all directions, teeth gnashed, fingers curled like razor-sharp talons.  Two men and a woman tried to bite at his neck and chest, but Alucard threw them off with little effort.  He fired a bullet into one of the remaining FREAKS and spun towards Seras in effort to silence another, but the Catholic got there first.

Anderson's blades flew and skewered the one Alucard had intended to kill and several more.  The room was a blur of smoke, ashes, smoldering pages and fragments of wood.  Though through it all, the oldest vampire could still see that dark-haired FREAK watching him with that strange shape glowing red on his forehead.  The man smiled; pearly fangs glinted through the destruction.  Alucard fought his way towards him, but even when he appeared to have made progress, the mysterious vampire seemed to be no closer. 

An eerie quiet settled over the ruins of Harrington's library when Anderson struck the final blow.  Alucard turned to watch the priest beheading the last attacking creature who then melted into the littered floor.  When he searched the room again for the dark-haired FREAK, he seemed to have vanished. 

An ear-splitting crash resounded from the far end of the room as Anderson shoved aside heavy wooden shelves and other remnants of the library to retrieve the crumpled form of the other priest.  He flung the injured Maxwell over his arm and glared at Alucard.  "This won't be the last time we meet, vampire.  One of these blades is marked for you.  The devil's waiting for you to come home."  In a flurry of pages Anderson was gone.  

"Limited release is now complete."

"You can come out now," Seras reassured Harrington.  He opened his eyes for what seemed like the first time since the FREAKS had burst inside, Alucard figured.  The man gasped and took in the devastated shell of a room that had formerly been his library.

"Where is it?" Alucard demanded as the human made a feeble attempt to gain his feet.  He was sure that the little punks hadn't gotten what they'd come here for, and they were certainly likely to try again.

            "It's been destroyed!" Harrington sobbed from his place behind Seras.  His face resembled a large tomato that looked about ready to burst.  He was still shaking and the strong scent of urine rose up from his drenched trousers.  "Blasted right off my desk.  This girl!  This stupid stupid girl – she incinerated it when she came charging into my home.  Who are you people anyway?"

            "Excuse me!" Seras growled.  "Did it escape your notice that just saved your life?  I can't believe this!  Those vampires would have ripped you apart!"

 "V-v-vampires?" Harrington whimpered.  He looked wildly from Seras to Alucard, focusing intently on the latter's very visible set of fangs.  "I'm dreaming, I must be dreaming." His eyes widened and the color drained from his cheeks.  He collapsed to the floor in a sweating, unconscious heap.

Alucard holstered his weapons and glanced over at his apprentice.  "The coward priest is gone and so is the thing those pretenders were looking for.  Well, that's a shame."

Seras was picking through the piles of ash and the mounds of decimated books and furniture.  "What did they want, Master?  There are loads of different things in here.  I wonder which one it was.  Are we really sure its not here? "

"If it isn't, all the better.  But I think one of the little fakes got away."  He frowned and kicked aside a battered table.  A swatch of green fabric peeked out from under the rubble, singed though it was; it was the same color cloth that the "relic" as the Catholics called it, had been wrapped in.  The vampire bent down and seized the object.

It was roughly the size of his outstretched hand and it certainly didn't look like much.  It was a box made out of rough, splitting wood with tarnished gold-colored metal bands decorating the sides.  An inscription, it seemed, was carved into the lid, but it was so faded and worn that even his vampire eyes could not make sense of it.  A film of charcoaled dust covered the thing, sinking into all the cracks and imperfections.  He fingered the latch.  It was a simple enough looking mechanism, but in spite of his superior strength, he couldn't get it to budge.  

He turned it over, examining it for something recognizable.  When he saw the outline of the symbol, it was if he'd been shot right between the eyes.  Alucard reeled backwards, clutching the relic tightly though fire seemed to sear through his body.  The sensation receded and when it did, she was there, staring at him with those hellish ruby eyes that pierced through that night so long ago. 

_She was speaking his language now, muttering words of comfort and of blasphemy at the same time. "Drink," she smiled and pulled away from his neck.  The prince blinked and watched his own blood run over her chin and drop onto the pristine white of her thinly woven robes.  She bit into her wrist and dangled it over his face.  His parched mouth cried out for liquid, his lungs seemed to be squeezing air out without taking any in.  He opened his mouth to gasp, and she sprang at him, sealing her lips over his.  An icy hand curled around the base of his neck, and she punctured her own tongue, sliding it into his mouth.  Blood spurted out and poured down the back of his throat, sweet like water after days in the desert._

_"You belong to me now."  She broke the kiss and pulled away, letting his body drop hard against the frozen ground.  The woman laughed and reared back to bare a milky-white neck that gleamed in the wintry moonlight. _

_Moments later his body shook – muscles knotted and jolted, full of pain, full of death.  The scream that tore from his throat only appeared to make her amusement greater; her laughter deepened and swallowed his cries, mingling in a demonic symphony that filled the night to accompany his suffering.  His eyes rolled back in his head when another convulsion pounded through him.  He was plunged into darkness, and then just as suddenly, blinded by a fiery light that burned him from the inside out.  He cursed her with the last of his strength and consciousness._

_The waves of pain finally ebbed away, how much time had passed, he didn't know.  His eyes peeled open - the world came into focus once again – and such focus.  The night air itself was alive.  Moonlight illuminated the shapes around him, what should have been mottled shadows were clear and crisp.  He could hear the sounds of animals in the distant forest, and nearer, the shallow breaths and low moans of his dying men.  All of them, dying or dead.  He could smell it, he could taste it.  Death._

_He propped himself up on his elbows, and she hovered over him._

_"It's a fine night," she said, again in his language.  "Wouldn't you agree?"_

_He stumbled to his feet and plucked the sword from his body, wincing only slightly.   The prince watched in wonderment as the wound sealed up in mere moments.  The blade gleamed in his hands and he studied the details of the jeweled hilt and metal work as if he were seeing it for the first time._

Alucard slammed the box down on Harrington's upturned desk and backed away.

"Master?  What is it?  Is everything--?

"Take that thing and deliver it to Sir Integra," he growled.  "I'll give Walter the full report – he'll have to get someone to clean up this mess."

Seras nodded, but continued to eye him as if she wanted to ask more questions.  He watched the police girl scoop up the small wooden box and tuck it under her arm.  Without another word he dissolved into the darkness.

_*                      *                      *                      *                      *_

She rested her chin on gloved hands and locked her eyes on the object in front of her.  It looked like it belonged in a rubbish heap, not something that humans and vampires alike were losing their lives over.  Integra massaged her temples and looked up when she felt the air in her office take a chilly turn.  Her crimson-clad servant ambled towards where she sat, moving slowly and without his hat and glasses.  Rays of moonlight had been replaced by the grey haze of the impending day.  Another night spent working, and a day full of tasks awaiting her attention was swiftly beginning.

"You haven't slept."

Alucard stopped in front of the desk and stared down at her.  She had never seen him look worn and haggard, as she was sure that she appeared right now.  Integra could practically feel the dark circles welling under her sore, tired eyes.  But she was certain he had to feel some sort of… weariness, didn't he?  If he could feel hunger or thirst, he had to get tired.  Though she had never really asked him.  Someday, perhaps, but not today.  "You haven't retired either," she replied.  "And it's already dawn."

He let out a low chuckle and stepped forward into the light.  "That makes little difference to me.  It's been a very long time since I feared the rays of the sun."

Integra drew in a breath and dropped her gaze to the wooden box on the desk.  It seemed that the more sunlight that crept into the room, the increasingly darker and decrepit the thing became.  Seras hadn't said very much when she'd brought it in, except that the item had nearly been lost and that the Iscariot Organization was pursuing it also.

"So what is this thing, I wonder?  What is it that they wanted it so badly?"

Alucard kept his distance and averted his eyes from the relic.  He began to pace the length of the office.  "Do they really need a reason?"

"Perhaps next time you could make them talk before killing them."

The vampire stopped short and turned around.  "Well, that's certainly different.  I thought killing them had been my mission."

Integra removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes.  Words tumbled from her lips; she could hear them running together in one exhausted stream but could do little to stop it.  "Walter suggested that we attempt to conduct our own full investigation into this matter.  I agreed.  We are still required to work with the police, though, by order of Her Majesty."

  Alucard was moving back in her direction.  A slight smirk had formed on his lips.  "They still don't trust you.  They're keeping a close watch, just waiting for another opportunity to take you and put you back—"

The muscles in her shoulders tensed and she sat up straighter in her chair.  She forced the air from her lungs in order to talk over him.  "I'll have Walter take it down to the police laboratories for analysis first thing.  Perhaps they'll be able to at least pry the damned thing open."

"I wouldn't be so sure.  Even I couldn't open it."

"You tried to…?"

He nodded.  "I can't imagine how that fool Harrington with the foul smelling blood thought he was going to unlatch it."

Integra reached for the shabby green cloth and dropped the cover over the artifact.  She then attempted to rise from her chair, but the effort proved too much for her worn-out body.  Her head swam and limbs hung limply.  All she could do was glare up at her servant.  "A human being should be more than the blood that runs through their veins."

Alucard moved around the side of the desk and fixed his glowing eyes on her.  "Should, but often isn't.  You sit here, night after night, day after day, pushing your already weakened body in order to protect them.  I haven't found a human yet that was worthy of being the cause of your death."  Integra could sense him drawing closer, but she lacked the strength to search out the source of the words that were now flying around in her brain.  Each of them was an echo which kept it's intensity in the closed confines of her fading consciousness.   "That sniveling little waste of flesh that the police girl and I encountered tonight… They are all the same," Alucard continued.  "Not one of them is deserving of your life."

His icy breath tickled her neck. She felt her eyelids growing heavy, too heavy to resist closing them.  His voice seemed little more than a sinister whisper in the distance.  "Why do you keep defending them?"  

Integra was at a loss to tell whether or not she spoke her reply aloud, or answered him with the only thought she could muster.  "You know the answer to that, Alucard.  It is my--."

"It must go above duty, Master."

"I have to believe, Alucard," she mumbled, struggling to open her eyes again.  "I must believe in humanity's ability to conquer all else.  We have endured and must continue to do so.  But… you may leave now.  I have more work to do."

"It will keep until you've slept."

"No, I have to…"

Her body molded to the chair and she lost the battle to keep the world in focus.  Her chair gave a slight creak and very suddenly, she felt as if she were floating, save for the fabric her cheek was resting against.  It smelled of the countryside, fresh and cool, as if the night air was somehow woven into the soft cloth. 

 A set of doors opened and closed, and then she was once again aware of something soft, yet solid under her body.  After that all sensations ceased.  There was quiet darkness, and a faint, familiar voice that ushered her into it.

"Sleep well, my Master…"


	4. Waking Dreams, Sleeping Nightmares

AN: Just a quick note, since I tend to go on a bit here – wondering if anyone's planning on attending Otakon in Baltimore next weekend.  I'll be there ^_^  Maybe we'll run into each other.

Again another chapter with my extreme love of delving into the past.  I hope everyone is at least mostly IC (I tried!), and that it answers some questions.

Thanks so much for reading!

Stella

THE ORDER OF LILITH

Chapter 3 – Waking Dreams, Sleeping Nightmares

She couldn't open her eyes, though she was keenly aware of everything immediately around her – the feel of the bed linens, the silence of her lonely room and the loud thrum of her own pulse.  Cold air hovered around her naked hands, but they would not respond when she tried to move them.  Muscles in her neck tensed as she made the effort to turn her head or open her mouth, but it was no use.  A brief wave of panic rushed over her senses.  Was she really still in her bed?  Had she been drugged?  What was the last thing she could remember about last night?

Alucard.

"It's not time to wake up."

Integra relaxed and let her mind swim back into the listless void.  She knew now that it was a dream, and that he was there with her.        A deep shadow stood still in what seemed to be a fog behind her eyelids.

            "Is this why you wanted me to sleep?"  She asked him.  "What are you doing, Alucard?"

            A low laugh sounded and the outline of his shape stepped forward out of the grey.  His fiery eyes were the only colors visible through the dimness.  A smaller silhouette followed him, all the while taking on the shape of a child – one with long, pale hair and eyes just like her father's.  "There are some things you need to remember," the vampire said.  "I'm just going to help you.  It does seem like such a long time ago, even to me."

            Before Integra could open her mouth to question him, the haze cleared before her and she was once again that little girl…

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

            _"Father, there's so much you didn't tell me."_

_Integra Hellsing gathered a notebook and a pen, threw a quilt over her dressing gown and crept out into the darkened corridors of her family home.  There was still enough time before the light of dawn descended upon __London_, time before the living world would awake and he would go take his rest.  __

_She padded along the icy stone floors, doing her best to stay silent and not awaken Walter.   The older man would, more likely than not, still disapprove of her going to see 'him' on her own, though it had been several months since that day.  Even if the monster had kneeled before her.  Even if it called her "Master."         _

_"This is what I must do," she whispered to herself.  Each step became stronger, more deliberate.  "I will find out everything I can about him – for Hellsing."  She picked her way through the deserted upper floor, letting her hand run along the coolness of the walls.  The house had never seemed this dark when her father was alive.  Night clung to every corner like a thick fabric that gave way only to where she was at the present moment.   Behind her, it sealed the space in pitch black; before her was the faintest hint of lamplight that had fought its way up from the manor entrance below.    _

_She quickened her pace again and drew nearer to the main staircase.  Silence buzzed in her ears, for lack of anything else to greet them as she began her descent.  But when she moved on, cold air seemed to billow up from the lower floors as if rising to meet her.  Integra pulled the covering more tightly around her shoulders and continued on her way, still clutching tightly to the neatly bound book in her hand.   Darkness seemed churn around her in a whirlpool of shadows and gloom._

_"Alucard?"  Her lips formed the name, but nothing audible escaped her throat.  The chill continued to bite through the thin material of her nightdress and crawl over her skin.  The girl took a deep breath and stared down at her attire.  Her shoulders slumped.  This was no way to go and address her servant, like a half-dressed child.  What had she been thinking?  Despite the urgency, albeit in her own mind, of the subject she wished to discuss with him, she should at least be properly clothed even at four in the morning.  Integra sighed and moved to turn around – if she hurried, she would still have at least an hour to speak to Alucard.   "Besides, if I don't get dressed I might very well freeze to death."_

_The young leader of Hellsing shivered again and began to climb.  The frigid air stayed with her, making her limbs feel heavy and uncooperative.   Regardless, she pressed on, but as she neared the top her step faltered.  Integra's heel caught on the edge of the quilt that dragged along behind her.  In a dizzying moment, she was launched backwards into the darkness with no way to save herself.  Frantic fingers clawed at the stillness but found nothing to catch.  The notebook slipped and the pen clattered lightly from somewhere below.  A gasp caught in her throat; she braced herself, waiting to hit the stones beneath, to feel the painful connection of her body with the unforgiving hardness of the floor.  But it never happened._

_The force of that lingering chill grew into a howling wind while she fell.  The breeze rushed against her body and seemed to catch her mere seconds before she would have hit the bottom.  It eased her gently onto the landing and dissipated with a low hiss, nearly as quickly as it had come.  Integra squinted.  She removed her glasses, wiped the lenses with the edge of her nightgown, put them back on and fixed her attention back onto the dim surroundings.  A mist hovered lowly out of reach from the faint lamplight.  The voice which emanated from the same corner was at first a whisper, but soon grew louder and more solid, drowning out the thunderous beating of her heart._

_"Good evening to you, young Hellsing.  Or shall I say, good morning?"_

_            Integra squared her shoulders and steeled herself for his appearance.  She was still getting used to the vampire; the eerie turn in the air that accompanied his presence, the flickering red eyes and the way he always seemed to sneak up on her.  And yes, the fangs.  He rose up from the floor and proceeded to glide forward wearing that coat, the one that was the color of blood.  Black hair obscured most of his face and the wispy ends moved just slightly in an unseen breeze.  To Integra, he seemed like a demonic marionette free of strings; his long limbs traveled in a fluid, yet stiff manner, awkward and graceful at the same time.  She knew it only appeared that way, since her human eyes could not discern the subtle movements that he made all too quickly when he walked.  _

_            He clasped her notebook and pen in his gloved hands, and held them out to her.  A dark eyebrow quirked over a spark of red, and she met his gaze while she reached up to take her things.  _

_"It was a gift from you father," he said, nodding at the book.  "He gave you many gifts – not all of which you are ready to understand."  Quite suddenly, she felt very exposed, sitting there alone and uncovered while his tall figure loomed above her.  She realized that he saw things she could not see.  He knew, no doubt, why she was coming to search him out.  Though, perhaps out of some strange courtesy, he asked aloud anyway._

_            "What is it that my master seeks at such an odd hour?"  _

_            She smoothed her wrinkled night dress and took a seat on a nearby step.  The vampire sauntered back and eyed her with his usual, somewhat amused smirk as she primly crossed her ankles, opened the notebook and readied the pen._

_"I want to know it all, Alucard.  How you came to be a vampire, why you serve my family...  More than anything else, I want to understand…. Your kind."_

_"To know your enemy is to defeat them, is that it, Miss Hellsing?"_

_Integra nodded.  The vampire simply smiled._

_"Such a willing student," he chuckled. "There are other things I could teach you, Master.  Many other things."  His voice sounded much closer than his actual physical proximity.  It slid over the distance between them like silk and she closed her eyes, feeling herself drawn into its soft embrace.  "Someday I will teach you all you wish to know, but now is not the time."_

_It was like a dream within a dream.  She was suddenly warm and comfortable, almost weightless.  Her mind was adrift amid the calm waters of somewhere safe and quiet, but his response still echoed within its confines.  Her mouth opened to speak.  The words tumbled out lazily; they sounded far away.  "Not the time… W-what do you mean?"  _

_"That you are not yet ready."_

_The hypnotic hold released her, and the girl's eyes flew open.  She glared at the thing across from her and shot upwards, hands clenching into fists at her sides while she stomped her bare foot.  "How dare you try to avoid this with your petty trickery.  I demand that you tell me, Alucard."_

_            He remained still and addressed her with an irritatingly unaffected tone.  "You would do well to learn patience above all else, my Master.  Let this be your first lesson."_

_            "I gave you and order," she seethed.  "And you will comply."_

_The red-clad figure took a step back and bowed his head.  "As you wish.   I was made a vampire more than 500 years ago at the end of the last war I fought in my human life.  My first contact with your family was with Dr. Abraham Van Helsing when I first came to __England__.  Through him I became bound to your line.  I will serve you and protect Hellsing faithfully, as I have done in the past.  That, my young master, is all you need know at present."_

_Without another word he dissolved back into the shadows._

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

The little girl stayed there, face flushed red with anger that was visible even through the dark.  She stood staring with disbelieving eyes at the place where her vampire servant had come and gone.  Integra could feel the rage emanating from the younger version of herself.

"Some things never change."  Alucard's voice was in the dreamer's ear again.  The scene of the white-dressed girl on the stairs began to waver.   Integra caught one last fleeting glimpse as the young Hellsing's small figure started back up to the second floor again.

"He's infuriating," the girl muttered before she disappeared, "But he did save my life, back then… and tonight." 

The last traces of the child had become the comfortable darkness again.  Integra waited, drifting through the layers of consciousness until her eyes snapped open at the sunlight blasting through the newly opened drapes.

"Sir Integra?"  Walter's voice beckoned from across the room and she squinted as the steward's face came into view.

  "My apologies for waking you, but the laboratories at the police authority just rang us.  I took the relic down there this morning and it seems that they've opened it up.  They thought you might like to examine the contents personally."

"Walter?"  She rubbed her eyes and found her glasses on the bedside table.  A tray of tea and toast was thrust under her nose as she sat up.

"Here, I've brought you something to eat.  You were talking in your sleep – is everything quite all right?"  

Integra stared at the butler.  He stiffened and set the food down on the nightstand before moving away.  "I… You didn't answer when I knocked and it's unlike you to… Shall I have the car ready in half an hour?"  She nodded and he turned to leave.  Details of the dream, of that memory, rushed back into her mind and the words fell from her mouth with no prior warning.

"Where's Alucard?"

Walter halted his exit and tilted his head as he regarded her.  "He retired hours ago.  It's well into the afternoon.  I was thinking of catching a wink myself."  He shook his head.  "Not as young as I used to be."

The door closed behind him.  Integra reached for the cup of tea, but let her hand drop beside the table.  However long she had slept hadn't been long enough.  With a heavy sigh she lifted herself out of bed and towards the closet full of freshly pressed suits.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

            Thirty minutes later, the leader of Hellsing felt as if she were still wandering in the dream.  She slid into the back of the car and settled back into the leather interior as the Rolls lurched forward.  What had the vampire been getting at?

            Integra's finger inched towards the window control and opened the window ever so slightly, letting the damp afternoon air filter inside.  She breathed in deeply and closed her eyes.

            "Things I needed to remember?"

            Why had he showed her that night – when she was a furious little child whose pursuit had amounted to nothing?  Her lips clamped together in a thin line, and she opened her eyes when the city came into view.

            The stately outlines of ornate old buildings seemed drawn into the landscape.  Spires and steeples reached for the unusually crisp, blue sky as they had for hundreds of years.  The car rolled passed a Buddhist temple and farther down the way, the tower of a mosque shot up from behind a row of town homes.  Testaments to the diversity of London's population, Integra thought.  At least people still believe in something these days.  And the royal family would always continue to uphold the Church – England would always be a Protestant country.

            A traffic light by the highway entrance blinked to red and the car jolted to an abrupt stop.  Integra quickly put out a hand and caught herself.  "Sorry about that, mum," the driver called from the front.  She nodded and sat back, but froze when she caught sight of a synagogue by the side of the road.  The large white sign in the front advertised a class exploring "Traditional Hebrew Myths."  The subject for the first lecture: The Legends of Lilith.

            "Lilith."  It was a hoarse whisper to the black letters on the lighted board.          The name she had uttered once in Alucard's presence, and she would never forget his reaction.   On another night, years after the one he had shown her in the dream, she had asked him again to tell her everything.  He revealed more than he intended, she was sure, though still… some of what he said escaped her understanding even after all this time.  When he had left her that evening, there was a part of her that felt as though she would never have the desire to ask again.

 _"I still don't believe you are quite ready for your lesson…"  his eyes gleamed through the stillness of her office.  "Master."_

_Integra's blood was pumping through her veins at light speed, pounding so hard that she was sure her body shook with every heartbeat.  In all of her nineteen years, she could only remember being this angry once before – when she had asked him these questions and the vampire had responded with only what was necessary to obey her commands.  "You will," she spat out through clenched teeth.  "You will.  Tell me.  Now.  Start with why you are bound to my family."_

_He began to laugh.  The sound of his voice echoed throughout the room and the ghostly  rays of the moon highlighted his growing smile. "You figured it out for yourself.  And  quite a while ago."_

_Gusts of wind stirred up from nowhere, carrying his words across the space between them.  She closed her eyes against the breeze as the self-imposed darkness plunged her back into that night, where she sat on the stairs in her nightgown waiting for the creature to answer her.  "To know your enemy is to defeat them."_

_The next sound that filled her ears was deafening, like the roar of rushing water, and she felt as if she really were drowning.   There was no air, nothing to grab onto; her entire body went cold and she knew her legs had given out, but falling… was taking so long.  Integra wrenched her eyes open and found his fiery gaze not even an inch from her face.  Perhaps he was looking for a hint of fear, but he would never find any – she would never let him see it.  Moving was impossible, though, pinned between the vampire and the desk, and she suddenly became aware of the pressure of his arm around her waist.  The other gloved hand cradled the back of her neck, forcing her head to tilt back so that she had no choice but to look at him._

_"So, that was your plan," she bit out.  "Infiltrate Hellsing, and then defeat us?"_

_His face was blank, with the exception of searching eyes.  "At first, yes," he dipped his head for a moment, making no sign that he would release his hold.  "But that was over a hundred years ago.  Things change."_

_She caught her breath.  "If there is one thing I know about you, Alucard, it's that you do not change."_

_"Perhaps I don't," he smiled.  "But circumstances do, as well you know."  His grip relaxed and feeling returned to her body.  He stepped back, leaving her to rest breathlessly against the edge of her desk while he walked about the room._

_"When I first encountered your family, it was at a time when my loathing for the vampire hunters outweighed any other thought or even instinct.  I came to __England__, in fact, to hunt them."_

_"So that is why?  But what about Stoker's book – what is all that—"_

_"It's garbage," He spat.  " A lie. A volume of lies.  I would have killed that Irishman if they had let me.  There's a reason why it is called fiction, Master."  _

_Integra swallowed hard and watched the vampire continue to roam.  She managed to clear her throat.  "When you say ' they,' you mean—"_

_"Yes, your grandfather and the doctor Van Helsing.  I admit, I did admire them, truly, when they finally bested me.  The admiration  then turned to rage and vengeance when they didn't destroy me, but sought to use me."_

_"I see," Integra said._

_Alucard stopped and turned to her.  "No, Miss Hellsing.  I don't know that you do.  My involvement with your family later evolved into greed when Van Helsing, and then, years after him, your father, told me what they could give me:  Power I could not imagine – strength above all other vampires.  With it, they proposed a symbiotic existence.  I could not refuse."  _

_"So, that is what kept you as their servant?"_

_ Alucard shrugged.  "They needed my protection and I need theirs.  Better I should hunt with them then be hunted by them.  Though do not misunderstand me, Master.  I serve you, but only because I allow it.  What keeps me bound to you right now is hardly mere self-preservation.  "_

_            Integra regained use of her legs and finally stood upright.  She crossed her arms over her still-frozen body.   "Then what does keep you bound to me?  I should think self-preservation would come very naturally to a vampire.  It's an instinct in even the lowliest of creatures."_

_He looked away.  "So it is."  In what seemed to be a sudden burst of light, red eyes flashed in front of hers again.  "Humans seem concerned with that and that alone."_

_"Do not mock me, Alucard."_

_"You would do well," he said, letting his lip curl upward to expose a glinting fang, "To take your own advice."_

_Integra let out a slow breath, but did not turn her gaze away from his.  "And what of your origins?  I know who you are, or shall I say, who you were, but vampires are made and not born."_

_The hostile air between them seemed to become stale and dormant.  There was no sound, no movement.  The red-clad figure stood still.  His lips barely moved when he finally uttered his response. "The first of our kind."_

_Integra took a step closer.  "The first?"_

_"Even I do not speak her name."_

_His voice had become quiet, all the usual amused and mocking tones had vanished.  The vampire was staring off into the distance.  His expression was unreadable._

_"Does hearing her name really frighten you?  She's a story – a folktale, a metaphor at best…"  _

_Alucard let out a short laugh.  "I'm standing here in front of you.  Some would say that I am little more than a story as well."_

_"I've read the legends.  You're not telling me – Lilith?" _

_Alucard moved away when the name hit the air.  _

_"Where is she?" Integra pressed. She had to force herself to close her jaw as she processed the information.   Alucard's voice remained low and even.  His words came with a languidness she had never before heard from him._

_"She is dead."_

_"How does one kill the mother of all vampires?  Certainly she was your master?"_

_He rose to his full height, like a great tidal wave ready to crash onto her helpless form.  Integra reeled back, catching herself on the desk once again. "She was never my master.  Though I certainly have no regrets about what I am, I did not choose to become a vampire back then.  I made no decision in becoming her servant.  She had no right to call me hers."_

_"You killed her?"_

_He calmed down again and made his way back towards the wall.  "It was very long ago.  And you know – that I fear no man, or any creature of the night.  But even I will tell you, there are two things that I will be humble before and would give my own immortal life to never see."_

_"How, how did you…?  Alucard?"  All she had done was blink, and he had gone._

_*                      *                      *                      *                      *_

"We're here, Sir Hellsing."  The driver held the car door open for her, then moved  to allow her entrance to the police headquarters.  She hated the smell of this building.  It was musty and antiseptic all at once, as if it were only clean on the surface while all the filth from years passed built up below.  

The heels of her shoes clicked on scratched tile floor as she traced her familiar path to the labs on the floor below.  Usually she only came here for autopsies.  This would be… different.  In the time since she'd woken today, she'd nearly forgotten about the relic itself.  Walter hadn't elaborated on what they'd found inside of it – perhaps they hadn't even told him.  Could be that they discovered it was nothing, just a fake, Integra said to herself.  It would figure.  She descended the dimly lit stairwell, then soon emerged in the fluorescent glow of the morgue and laboratories.

"Sir Hellsing?"  A squat man wearing bright blue scrubs and a surgeon's mask lumbered over to greet her.  He pulled a rubber glove from his hand and gestured towards a well-lit room behind another glass door.  "It's in here.  I dare say the bloody thing gave us some trouble, and as for what's inside… Well, now – I don't quite know what to tell you about that."

He handed her a pair of gloves like his own and led her towards a white-sheeted lump that sat on the center of a steel gurney.  

"We had our folks send a sample out to Oxford – for carbon dating and such.  One of their archeology professors came in earlier today, and you know he couldn't figure anything out.  Said it looked like something from the mainland, could have been used for some cult or religious ceremony a couple of hundred years ago.  He drew himself a copy of some of the markings and says he'll get back to us.  Nice chap."

The scientist pulled back the covering and Integra just stared at what lie before her.  The box, which she had seen last night, looked about ready to turn to dust.  If it had been grayish and tarnished before, it was nearly black and about to crumble at present.  But stranger than that were the objects beside it: neatly placed in a plastic dish, on a white towel was what could have been a leather pouch.  It looked more like a piece of coal, or the blackest obsidian, the way it shone under the light.  But the apparent texture of the object made it appear to be more of animal than of mineral.  That, and the impressive piece of metal that was spiked right through its center.

"What is that?"  Integra reached out and wrapped her fingers around the bizarre piece of antiquity.  It felt solid and heavy in her hand.

"Search me, miss," the man beside her replied.  "But that metal bit, it's steel.  Looks almost like the broken blade of a sword."

            She nodded and turned the object in her hand.  When Integra readjusted her hold on it, her thumb brushed against the metal and she felt the heat of a wound.

            "Dammit."  Blood oozed from the slice on her fingertip, spurting out of the glove and trickling on to the bizarre item she still held.  She quickly set it down, hastily placing it back in the decaying box.  The decrepit lid slammed down on it, emitting a cloud of black dust.

            "Guess it's sharp whatever it is… or was," the man said.  "We'll see to that thing later on.  Come along, Sir Hellsing, let me clean that cut up for you – who knows what kind of old germs were lurking on that old thing.  Bandages are in the next room.  Say, have you had a tetanus shot recently?"

            Integra followed her host, only half listening to his babbling when she became distracted by another sound.  As he ushered her out of the room, she turned and stole a quick glance back at the box in the middle of the white sheet.  It looked the same, but she was almost certain… what could have been a heartbeat, albeit faint, was coming from that spot.  Suddenly she felt as if she couldn't move.  The beat pounded louder, and louder still, until it was deafening within the confines of her head… the room… the entire floor.

            "Are you alright?  Sir Hellsing?"

            She could barely make out his voice.  Cold sweat began to trickle down the back of her neck as the sound throbbed more ferociously.

            _Boom.  Boom.  Boom._

"Sir Hellsing?"

Just as suddenly, it stopped.  Integra caught herself against the door jamb and turned to face the person next to her.  The scientist was starting at her expectantly, as if he were ready to catch her.

"I… I'm fine," she said, flicking her eyes back to the object.  Still, it appeared, nothing had changed.

Her guide cleared his throat and Integra took a step back.  She blinked, then moved to follow him completely out into the hallway.  The man switched off the light and closed the door to the place that housed the relic.

"You looked a wee bit faint there for a second," he said, laughing as he pulled a roll of gauze and a cotton swab out of a cabinet in the next room.  Integra sat down and offered him the injured hand.  She still felt dizzy and disoriented.  Lord Hellsing tried to clear her head, though she couldn't help but look towards the darkened room she had just come from.

            The scientist continued to chatter as he cleaned her cut.  "I thought I was going to have to carry you in here.  What's wrong," the man joked, catching her eye as he set the bandage in place, "Can't stand the sight of blood?"

            Integra raised an eyebrow, then stood up and walked away.


	5. Midnight in the Garden

AN:  I'll keep this short – just want to thank everyone for their patience and, as always, for reading.

Take care!

Stella

The Order or Lilith

Chapter 4 -  Midnight In The Garden

            "Sir Integra, there is a message from… oh, excuse me."

            Integra's eyes flicked up to greet the steward as he slipped through her office doors.  She raised a gloved hand, motioning for him to stay, and turned her attention back to the phone.

            "Yes, and forward his report over here.  I'd like to see what the Oxford historian came up with in regards to the object."

            The voice on the other end of the line assented and took down the fax number before asking if there was anything else.  Integra quietly cleared her throat, making sure the orders she gave would be concise and easily understood.  She tried to shrug off the dizzy, somewhat detached feeling that had been hanging over her head since yesterday.  In a quick flash, she saw the smooth black object that had been hidden in the box with a blade lodged deep inside.  Integra tucked her wounded thumb under the fingers of her right hand and she spoke slowly into the mouthpiece.    

"Be certain it's closely guarded, especially during the night hours.  There are two other factions vying for possession of that thing, and both are equally dangerous.  I suggest you increase security measures at the police authority building to at least three times the usual force and call in soldiers from the army.  No, I'm not kidding."

The leader of Hellsing let out an exasperated sigh and hung up the receiver, scribbling down a few notes while Walter approached her desk.  When she looked up again, he held a letter.  She recognized the seal immediately.

"From Her Majesty?"

Walter nodded.  "It would appear so.  The messengers informed me it was most urgent."

            Integra tore at the envelope and intently scanned the writing on the page inside.  A gasp caught in her throat.  Her jaw slackened and she let the paper flutter down to the desk's polished surface.  She felt as if a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped over her entire body.

            "Sir Integra?  What is it, is everything--"

            "They're coming here, this afternoon."

Walter leaned closer.  "They?  Who is coming here?"  

 "Her Majesty informs me that she has commissioned select members of the Round Table to act as…" Integra swallowed hard and looked down at the message again, "_advisors _to the Hellsing Organization in its time of restructuring.  The committee plans to meet here today to 'inspect our progress.'  I don't believe this."

            She slid parchment across the way so that Walter could read the words for himself.  The lines in his forehead deepened and the butler shook his head.

            "Not that it's my place to question Her Majesty, but what could the Queen be thinking?  The Round Table has certainly blamed Hellsing for problems that arose in the past, but certainly the Queen always saw through it.  I can't imagine why she would do this."

            Integra folded her hands on her desk and sat up straight in her chair.  Her pulse was racing so fast that she had to fight to keep her body from shaking. "These are royal orders and we must accept them.  For now.  The committee is to arrive at four o'clock, Walter.  Please prepare the conference room."

            He took a hesitant step back.  She knew he was unsure as to whether he should really leave her at this moment, but all she wanted was to be left alone with her emotions.  Integra's hand found the letter again, smoothing over the piece of paper before violently crumpling it into an unrecognizable wad while her fist slammed down on the top of the desk.

            "I said, go, Walter!"  She snapped.  Rage clouded her vision so completely that she barely took notice of the older man giving a quick bow and making a brisk exit.  Integra tossed the mutilated correspondence into her wastebasket and rested her forehead against her palms, leaning on the desk and attempting to take slow, even breaths.  _Why? _Her mind asked in rapid fire._  Why would the Queen do this, why?  Why!_

            "I told you before, they still don't trust you."

            The body to match the voice slipped through the gray stone wall and strode forward.  The dark figure took no heed of the shafts of light reaching over the floor and when he finally stood before her, the sun seemed to flee the room altogether.

            "Not now, Alucard."

            The corners of the vampire's mouth twitched upwards and he gave a slight shrug.  "You asked a question, I merely came to offer an answer."

            Integra's body began to relax slightly, and she wondered for a moment why her servant's presence seemed to calm her.  Alucard stood with his hands at his sides, staring down at her as though he were waiting for her to finish her contemplations.  She lit a cigar and settled back into her seat.

            "Is that everything, Alucard?"

            He shook his head.  "Those decrepit old men have wormed their way into the Queen's good graces and convinced her that you need them, that Hellsing cannot be rebuilt by you alone."  He fixed his gaze on the shredded envelope and torn seal, then set his fiery eyes back on her.  "All they want is to control you."

            "But Her Majesty has never doubted my abilities before."

            "You never gave her reason to.  They, however, have."

            Integra shot up to her feet and steadied herself on the edge of the desk.  "But she knew the truth, Alucard.  'Stand strong,' that is what she said.  The traitorous bastard is gone from the knighthood; Hellsing is restored.  I don't need them."

            "It matters little.  They see you as a threat to their power and position."  Alucard mimicked Integra's stance by placing his hands down and leaning in, until his face was close to hers.  "If you exposed them for the cowards they really are, it would mean their end.  More than anything, my Master, they are afraid of you.  They are afraid of the power that Hellsing wields.  Fear can be a dangerous enemy."

            Integra closed her eyes, letting her shoulders sag as she drew in a deep gulp of air.  A chilly breeze rolled passed her cheek, and when she looked again, Alucard was gone.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

They filed in accompanied by the rustling of expensive overcoats and the scent of tea and bland pipe tobacco.  Walter gestured towards the chairs around a massive oak conference table and waited politely until the four men took their seats.  Their watery eyes collected the details of the room as they settled into to their places: studying; observing; criticizing.  One of them shivered when his stare lingered for too long in a shadowy far corner.  He sat up even straighter when he thought he saw the outline of a tall figure flash against the stone; the man paled and looked away.  Alucard suppressed a laugh.  Most of the time he didn't waste his time prying into the thoughts of people like these, but sometimes, it afforded at least a bit of entertainment to pass the time.

"Sir Integra will be in directly," Walter informed the visitors over the screeching sounds of wood being pulled across the tile.  "Tea will be served in a few minutes."  He turned on his heel and left the room without as much as a glance behind him.  Even the seemingly calm Angel of Death was having trouble hiding his disdain.  His Master, the vampire was sure, would be making no effort whatsoever to mask her own.

The large doors opened once again, and she strode into the room with her usual air of command.  Her face was expressionless as she regarded each of them in turn, greeting her fellow nobility with just a curt nod of her blond head and the gleam of steely nerve in her eyes.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen.  I trust that you have a clearly outlined agenda for this meeting, so I ask you to deliver it promptly as I have neither the time nor the desire to make this into an all day affair."

Integra remained standing as if by taking a seat, she would inadvertently allow this ordeal to take any longer than it possibly had to.  She folded her arms and waited, Alucard knew, for one of them – any of them – to say something.  A few seconds of disjointed mumbling and throat clearing followed until a silver-haired man in a brown suit gained his feet and turned to Integra.

"Sir Hellsing.  We are here by order of Her Majesty.  You would do well to be as accommodating as possible.  We are to give the Queen a full report on your progress."

"That may be so," Integra answered, "but as it stands now, this committee is keeping me from my work and halting my progress.  You are wasting my time.  Tell me what it is that you want."

"We want to be sure that the task of running Hellsing is still a duty that you are fit to perform," another man answered.  "There are some who still believe that you and your organization should be banished from this island, as you do more harm than good.  There is also a question of loyalty."

Alucard could see her shoulders start to tremor.  The muscles in her neck tensed and became even more drawn with each passing second.

"Hellsing has endured and will continue to do so."  The strain in Integra's voice was evident as she visibly fought to keep her tone low and even.  "Certainly her Majesty knows that we will always defend England as we have sworn to do.  My family does not take its duty lightly."

"Your oath, Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing," the silver-haired man spoke up again, "Is no longer fully yours to keep.  One does not simply erase the brand of 'Traitor to the Crown.'  Even if you've been pardoned we as a group feel that there must have been some truth to the accusations.  As of now, Hellsing will answer to me."

Integra's arms dropped to her sides and she glared at the speaker over the silver rims of her glasses.  "I answer to no one except God and Her Majesty. Now get out."

"Excuse me?"

"I said get out of my house."

The older man made a series of sputtering noises as tides of red rushed into his angular face.  "You do not give me orders, you spoiled child.  I thought your father had lived long enough to at least teach you proper manners.  Do you even know who I am?"

"I don't care," Integra growled.  "Leave here at once!  You have no right to come into this home and insult the name of my family and the honorable work of Hellsing.  There is nothing we have to discuss.  You may leave."

 "You do not dismiss me!  I am Sir Reginald Hargate!" the man barked.  He threw back his chair and it crashed against the floor as he surged up the length of the table. "I am the chairman of this committee and the new leader of the Round Table.  You will address me with the proper respect that one should give a superior.  You will answer whatever I ask and I will take however long I choose to ask it."

He took long strides and within moments, was face to face with the seething Miss Hellsing.  It was clear to Alucard that the battle to contain her temper had finally been abandoned.  "You have no right to be here.  You know nothing!  Nothing of what this organization has been through, nothing of what we have fought to—"

The sound of a palm connecting with Integra's cheek echoed through the room.  Her icy eyes widened and she moved her mouth as if to speak, but no words came out.  Everyone present in the room seemed frozen in place, shocked expressions carved into their immobile features.  Integra lifted a hand to the mark on her face and leveled an unreadable gaze at the man across from her.

"How dare you—"

            "You pompous little bitch, don't you say another word!"  The knight seemed ready to strike her again.  Blustering outbursts sounded from the other men who were all rising from the table, but none could be understood over Sir Reginald's booming voice.  "Over two hundred men killed in the last six months!  Death and destruction wherever you go.  Her Majesty should have never let you out of that tower.  Every single one of those deaths is on your head."  His taller stature loomed over her as if he were attempting to make her sink into the floor.  Integra did not so much as flinch, but Alucard would hear no more.  He silently made his way out of the shadows and crossed the room unnoticed.  Everyone's attention was still riveted to the loudest of the knights.  

"God will never forgive you!"  Hargate continued.  "You sully the honor of this venerable order and disgrace the knighthood!  I will not rest until I see you stripped of your title and--"

            "Who is the true disgrace?"

            The sharp, metallic sound of the Jackal's safety being disengaged shifted everyone's focus to the newly materialized red figure behind Sir Hellsing.

            "How dare you lay a hand on my Master when you have done nothing to defend this country except flaunt your title and abuse the position given to you.  You are weaklings, whelps who have to rely on deceit and idle threats to keep you where you are."

            "I assure you, none of my threats are idle," Reginald spat.  

Alucard took a step forward with the gun at arm's length.  "As are none of mine."

The man stumbled backwards, nearly falling over the rest of the stunned committee members who had left their seats.  "Integra Hellsing, did you call him?  The gall… threatening us like this."

            "Oh no," Alucard replied, moving in until his over-sized gun was pointed directly at the head of Sir Reginald.  "I'm threatening you on my own.  You have to rely on my Master to tell me to stop.  And right now, I don't know that she really feels like it."

"Integra Hellsing!"

The blond young woman simply smiled and fixed her gaze on her servant.

"To be honest," the vampire went on, pushing Hargate back with the tip of the Jackal, "I don't remember whether the clip is full or empty.  How would you like to help me find out?"

            The older man quaked where he stood.  "Sir Hellsing…"

            Integra's voice cut through the tense air.  He could sense her mind pulling him back, calling for his retreat.  "Alucard."

            The dark figure licked his lips and flexed his finger against the trigger.  "Let me shoot him, Master.  Let me wash the walls with his pathetic blood and brains; let me make a whole in his skull big enough to match the one he speaks from.  Let me fire this gun and rid the world of his useless presence."

            "Alucard.  No.  Holster your weapon."

            "I know your true thoughts," he smiled.  "Miss Hellsing."

            "Alucard, do as I command."

            The vampire let out a disappointed sigh and returned the massive gun to the mysterious folds of his blood-red coat.

            "Yes, my Master," he whispered with a bow.  The vampire curled his lips back and snarled at the unwelcome guests in the room before dissolving into the air.  He did not need to remain.  Even from his place in the sublevels, he heard Integra's footsteps carry her away from the room and into the solitude of her office.  They would be back, of that he was sure.  Those cowards could seek to control Hellsing, but they would never lord over Integra as long as he served the only human ever fit to be called his Master.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

            It was well into the evening when she finally stepped outside after hours of being left alone with nothing but her work and the reverberating words of Sir Reginald Hargate.  Integra breathed in the scent of fresh darkness and slipped onto the stone walkways outside the main house.  Since she had returned from the tower, she often made her way out here, at first because the doctors had told her that a short walk and fresh air was necessary to aid in the healing of her battered body.  But there was something else.  

            The young woman rounded a corner and stopped at the edge of the path.  Line after line of twisted shadows met her from the space beyond, stretching over the darkened ground.  There were two hundred and twelve of them.   She didn't have to count.  Integra knew they were all there, planted in neat, sturdy rows like the men they represented.  And she had stood by night after night, until they were all committed to the solemn ground that had been consecrated with their blood.  A fitting tribute to her fallen soldiers?  Hardly.  But while their bodies lay rotting in a graveyard, their memories should live on in the place where most of them so violently met their end – at their posts, doing their duty: To their queen, their country and… to her.  Then there were the others killed in the Tower, some of them barely with the organization a few weeks after the Valentine brothers' rampage in her home.  There were names she didn't even recognize, while at the same time, there were others that she knew all too well: Gareth.  Pickman.  Farguson.

The night wind carried the hint of a chill on its edge, but she hadn't bothered with a coat.  _Nothing to worry about, no frost that would harm them_.  Integra took a deep breath and found herself again in the garden surrounded by the rose bushes, each with a small silver plaque that bore a name and the Hellsing crest.  The fragrance hung heavily in the foggy London air, so sweet and so very different from the scent of blood and gunpowder.  The scent of death.   She stepped lightly across the damp, upturned earth and reached out to touch one of the red blossoms, fresh and newly opened.  Her eyes caught the glimmer of metal at her feet and she felt her eyes automatically rove over the engraved letters below.  

A flash-flood of images clicked in her mind like the systematic firing of a gun.  They hit her with the force and pulse of an emptying chamber and she heard Sir Hargate's voice again: "Each one of those deaths is on your head."

 How many of them had she shot herself on the night after the Valentines' attack?  She didn't count then as she picked her way through the carnage, numbly reloading the bullets and listening for the groans of the dying.  Her mind had taken her somewhere else in those moments, but the echoes had searched her out and made a home forever in her memory.   She shuddered_. _

_ Footsteps over the cold stone floor; low moans of a men transforming into ghouls; the crack of her pistol; the dull thud of a bullet hitting flesh and bone…_

            "You mourn them like a widow.  And flowers won't grow any faster, even if you water them with tears."

            The moon had hidden itself behind a sea of clouds, and a deeper darkness seemed to fill the space around her.  He made no other sound as he approached, but all the same, she sensed he was there, right behind her.  Integra pulled her hand away from the plants but didn't turn to look at him.  

            _It was the eve of their betrayal, the night that Incognito had captured the __tower__ of __London__.  Integra watched the image on the monitor, barely able to stand.  A shot to the head and a shot to the heart.  Peter was gone._

            "It is only fitting that I should.  I am the cause of all this."                  

Alucard materialized behind her, his solidarity announced by the low rumble that danced up from his throat.  His laughter seemed even louder and somehow more cruel when it cut through the sacred silence of this place.  "Ah, so it was you who invited the Valentine brothers to Hellsing?  I should thank you, then, for the older one.  He was a bit of fun.  Slightly disappointing in the end, though.  The same could be said for Incognito."

            "No more."  A fleeting wave of anger washed through her.  But by the time she turned to face him, it had ebbed away back into the sadness.  The unfamiliar presence of moisture still clung to her eyes, and one word ran softly over her lips.  "Please."

            Red gleamed behind his dark glasses and he gave a slight nod.  His lips pressed into an uncharacteristically sullen line and he gestured towards the lighted windows of her office.

            "You are needed back inside.  There are other matters that require your attention."

            Her feet still refused to move.  She looked away from the vampire, noticing newly emerged moonlight peeking out from the thick, night sky.  It trickled over the garden.  "Soon enough."

            "So you say, my Master."

            The air grew suddenly lighter and Integra felt sure that he had gone.  What could he have to say that might comfort her?  He who would stand by and let a thousand men fall unless their dying would somehow distract him from his intended target.  But she… she did not deserve comfort, even the awkward mocking sort delivered by her vampire.  After all, who comforts the dead, now cold in the ground?

A light breeze touched the side of her face and stirred the cascade of long hair over her shoulders.  It carried with it a whisper, not unfamiliar to her, but in a far gentler tone than she was accustomed to.  "Listen to me, Master.  This is the fate of one who was born to be a leader of men.  All men die.  When you lead them into a war, they die all the sooner.  Those fools who came here this afternoon do not understand that, but you must."

            "Does that mean that I shall ever learn to bear it?" She asked the night.  

            "You will," it answered.  "As you have bourn everything else."

            She finished a silent prayer and hugged herself against the increasingly cool winds that had picked up in the last few minutes.  The distant whine of sirens sliced through stillness, drowning out the midnight chime of Big Ben.  Integra glanced in the direction they seemed to be coming from, but able to see nothing, turned to make her way back inside when Walter's voice caught her attention from the window above.

            "Sir Integra!"

            "What is it, Walter?"

            "I just received a call from downtown.  It seems there's been a security breach at the police authority."

            She raised a hand to her temple and squinted through the darkness.  "Don't tell me."

            The butler let out a long breath and gave her a look that confirmed her suspicions.  "I'm afraid so.  The relic has been stolen.  The thieves were caught on the cameras at the very least.  Two officers and one scientist were killed in the attack.  The bodies were discovered at the change in shift.  It seems culprits--"

            "Those idiots.  The last thing I said to them was to make sure they kept that area secure until we knew what the thing was.  Get the car ready, Walter.  I need to get down there."

            "I've already taken the liberty of sending Miss Victoria.  She was a police officer after all.  She knows how to process a crime scene."  He paused for a moment when the shrill cry of another siren hit the air.  "It was a FREAK attack.  The dead men were not turned into ghouls, however.  Just horribly mutilated.  Miss Victoria has been instructed to completely purify the area regardless."

            Integra nodded her approval.  "Send Alucard out as well.  If there's any chance he can track them, perhaps we can learn something.  I want information, Walter.  What is it?  Why do they want it?"

            In reply to the query, the steward held up a handful of papers.  "That was the other thing.  We just received the report from the historian at Oxford.  I… You'd better have a look at this."

***      ***      ***      ***      ***      ***

I also wanted to invite anyone who might be looking for some other Hellsing fanfiction (general fics and AxI stories) to the archive at Blissful Ignorance:  

There are some fics that you'll find here, but also some that won't.   And we also have several forums for other series, too.  Hope to see you there!


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